Persona 5: UnGrown Up
by Blankedty
Summary: [Slight AU] Ten years after the disbandment of the Phantom Thieves, everyone is all "grown up", or failing at it - miserably - as they struggle with unrequited love, relationships and Ann's engagement during their late twenties. [Multiple character pairings]
1. UnGrown Up

**"UnGrown Up"**

"Damn it!" She muttered.

It was raining. Umbrellas were held above the heads of the speed walking people of Yongen. A few people bumped into her and her one nice designer handbag as she exited the train station and crossed the street. The gray sky of the late spring would normally put her off, especially with the LSAT coming up - but she convinced herself she needed to go. It had been a very long time since she had been to that neighborhood; to that cafe; face to face with him.

Leblanc maintained its appearance, after all those years. Makoto stood in front of the cafe looking in. It was empty - as always - and she wondered if she was too early. She stood beneath the awning and closed the umbrella. Her hair stuck to the side of her face, and she considered cutting her shoulder blade length hair back to the length she wore it in high school. She dug into her overpriced designer handbag and searched for her phone. Unable to find it, she began to panic. Suppose Sae called? The one day she decided to leave her apartment and she'd probably miss an important phone call. The call that would change her family - for the better.

Sae was very pregnant. The older Niijima sister gave up on marrying someone and decided that wouldn't stop her from being a mother. Yes, it would be hard, but she was a hard working woman, and Makoto was always there by her sister's side. Though Sae struggled with getting pregnant, it finally happened, before Makoto knew it, her sister was very close to her due date. Stopping by Leblanc to see everyone after so much time had passed wasn't a bad idea, but she worried about Sae.

Until she saw him. Makoto finally found her phone, and as she pulled it out to call Futuba, to ask how close she was to the cafe - there - he stood. "Hey." She said with a weak smile.

"Hey," Akira said back. Even after all those years, he remained unchanged, like Leblanc. Well, not too unchanged. His hair was a bit shorter but framed his face well. His onyx eyes were still wide, and very dominate on his face; a very 'un-Japanese' trait only he had. He never needed those glasses, but grew so accustomed to wearing them, he found he needed them after a while. Reading small print without them became a hassle for him, or so Haru told her, the last time they talked.

Right. He was dating Haru.

Their relationship was pretty recent and shocked their circle of friends. But no one said anything when they announced it; when he moved into Haru's highrise apartment; when they appeared as a couple at gatherings. Today, they were gathering for another announcement. A big one. Ann emphasized on its importance and insisted they all had to get together. She had news she was dying to share. That, and she missed everyone a great deal after moving to New York almost five years ago.

Five years, ten years - Phantom Thieves, no Phantom Thieves. Time was time; friendships - true friendships - lasted no matter the length of time, or so Makoto hoped.

Akira knocked the door. With no answer from the inside, he turned the knob. The cafe was left open. It was strange, as it was closed for the day - for their gathering - and Futaba didn't usually leave the door open. Not that Akira needed to check the door for being locked. He still had a key, as the store manager and former resident. With his return to Tokyo, he resumed life in the attic of Leblanc - to the liking of Sojiro and Futaba. Time blazed by and before anyone noticed it, he and Futaba were both college grads, then grad students. Kurusu Akira had a regular nine to five. After two years with the firm, he quit once Sojiro asked for him to take over Leblanc. He was glad to, finding work dull. Futaba worked on getting her Ph.D. in computer science and received recognition as the youngest Head of Research at her university.

They were grown up.

Makoto placed her wet umbrella in the bin by the door, and then made herself comfortable in the middle booth. She kept her trench coat on, as the cafe wasn't exactly warm. Akira sat across from her, checking his phone. Their eyes did not meet. Instead Makoto looked around the cafe - the space that seemed stuck in time. Ten years earlier they all sat in commemoration of the of Phantom Thieves post- Akira's return; the end to the thing that gave them all new beginnings. After surveying the room, Makoto's eyes landed on Akira once more. He was more or less as timeless as the place they sat.

"Are you texting, Haru?" She asked. She could hear the timidness in her voice when speaking to him.

"Yeah - she doesn't think she can get away from the office. They had a problem at their last board meeting and she's trying to do some damage control," He answered without looking up. Makoto pouted and looked away. Akira looked up from his mobile device and noted her solemn expression. He placed the phone into his pocket and ran his fingers through his hair, "I've been so rude. How are you, Makoto?" He asked.

Makoto looked at Akira as he held a strand of his dark locks in between his index finger and thumb. He looked as youthful as he did when they were teenagers. She felt her cheeks burn as her old feelings rushed in. She could never tell him how much she admired him; longed to be like him; how she loved him. Even a decade later and she could not imagine uttering the words. In the back of her mind, she prayed someone else from their group would show up soon. The queer silence between them ate her up.

A slender male with short cropped russet hair stood outside Leblanc. Though he said nothing, there was clearly another person on the other line who shouted into the phone. Her words were unclear but her yells were very audible. Ryuji's argument seemed to go nowhere and he wore disappointment on his face. He was defeated. He was soaking wet, having left his apartment that morning without an umbrella. By the time he left the gym, it was pouring and not much could be done. Soaked to the bone, his phone rang just as he was about to enter the cafe. His girlfriend, Lana, called. She was less than pleased that he was going to meet his old friends, without her. He never introduced her to the important people in his life, though they had been dating for six months already.

"Babe," Ryuji began. He said it carefully and she stopped her verbal attack. "next time. Okay? I promise. I'll call you when I get home. Later." Ryuji ended the call from his phone and as he touched the doorknob of Leblanc, he heard a familiar voice.

"Trouble in paradise?" A hooded figure inquired. As he removed his hood, Yusuke walked over to Ryuji with a small smile on his pale face. His moonlight complexion seemed to stand out on the exceptionally rainy day. His dark hair had grown long and he wore it in a neat ponytail; a few strands hung over his forehead.

"Mind your business," Ryuji muttered. He opened the door to Leblanc and Yusuke followed. Both men entered the cafe and Akira turned to look upon hearing the squish of Ryuji's wet feet in his sneakers. Akira smirked and pushed up his frames with his index finger. "Don't say shit." Ryuji glared at his close friend as he tried his best to get comfortable at the bar. Yusuke sat beside Makoto and looked to Akira with a smile. Both men were grinning.

Makoto held her hand over mouth, hiding her laughter. Ryuji sighed deeply. He then sneezed and Akira took that as the cue to get some tea prepared. "I do have some extra clothes in the attic. They're probably a little musty, but at least they're dry." Ryuji hopped off the barstool and headed up to the attic. Makoto and Yusuke spoke amongst themselves, catching up. Yusuke had an art show the month before, in New York City. He was glad to be home after his few months aboard.

"You saw Ann when you were in Brooklyn, right? Do you know what her announcement could possibly be about?" Makoto inquired. By this time, Akira already served her and Yusuke tea and prepared other things for everyone else to eat upon their arrival.

"No. I haven't the faintest idea. She stopped by the gallery on the last day of my show and we had dinner and drinks at her apartment after, but I didn't hear anything out of the ordinary," Yusuke sipped his tea and Makoto picked up her own cup. Her eyes made it over to see Akira at the counter continuing preparation. Yusuke noticed her gaze at the corner of his eye and touched her shoulder, ending her trance. "I'm glad we're all here though. It's nice to see each other every once in awhile." Makoto looked up to Yusuke and noted his warm smile. She knew he knew how she felt. She was grateful to him for never saying a word.

Ryuji pulled off his shirt and rubbed the back of his neck. He sat on the old sofa and began checking his phone. There were many text messages from Lana. The first few scolded him for always leaving her out of his life. Her last message - the one she sent before she called - said 'let's break up'. Ryuji responded with 'okay', and that lead to her heated response. As much as he liked Lana - and as good as she was to him - Ryuji didn't have the heart to tell her he didn't love her; that he was wrong to tell her that he did; that it was a lie he told himself to try and get over things.

Things like Ann's postings on her social media account about her and new her photographer boyfriend. Why did it bother him that she was on the other side of the planet, dating and fucking some other guy, and he was in Shibuya; a trainer at a gym. He made decent money. He had fair living in the apartment above his mother's. Life wasn't too exciting, but he was stable. He a had a job he liked. He had his own apartment. He saw Akira, and Mishima every so often. He had a girlfriend…

Lana was a Capoeira instructor at the gym Ryuji worked. It was the first word he actually paid attention to once he stopped ogling her breasts and firm buttocks. He was impressed with her skill at the martial art and after he lost to her three times in arm wrestling, she told him he had to take her on a date. Their first date began at a vegan ramen spot and ended with a kiss before they parted ways at Central Street. They spent their days in the gym, during and off from work; trying out new healthy places Lana liked; and sex. Lots of sweaty loud sex at her place because his mother lived beneath his. He certainly liked Lana, but he didn't love her.

Completely lost in thought, Ryuji dropped his wet pants. He took no notice of Futaba who was wrapped in blankets on Akira's old mattress and as she adjusted her frames and shouted "Pervert!"

Ann stood outside Leblanc with a smile on her face. She studied the outside of the cafe, comparing it to her memory. It was the same. Five years, and it smelled the same; looked the same. It maintained the appearance it had in her memory. For that, she was grateful. She peered inside and saw her old friends talking and laughing among themselves. She tucked her hair behind her ear. She took a deep breath, stepped to the door and turned the knob of the place that she kept in her dreams and memories. It had been five years since she was last in Yogen. Five years since she was in that place - and five years since she had seen him.

"Hey, you're here already -" Akira paused. He expected Haru, as she texted him a bit ago saying she was on her way, but seeing Ann there - before him - after half a decade, logic and thought left him.

Makoto and Yusuke looked to the entrance and took note of Ann Takamaki with short dirty blonde hair, red colored lipstick, and an over the top designer dress and shoes. It seemed she fled from her photo shoot - taking no time to change her clothing. Makoto slowly turned her gaze from Ann to Akira, seeing in his countenance, something she couldn't describe.

"Hi guys," Ann said with a small smile. Her cheeks were flushed and tears welled in her eyes. Ryuji and Futaba walked down from the attic. Ryuji found he was stuck in place, unable to take the final step from the stairs. Futaba had already taken it upon herself to pull Ann in a warm embrace. "Futaba..." Ann said as the younger woman wrapped her arms around her.

"Welcome back," Futaba squeezed Ann and both women found themselves in tears before long. Yusuke arose from his spot in the booth and gave way for Makoto. The younger Niijima sister made her way out of the corner seat and walked over to her friend. "Get in here," Futaba said and pulled Makoto into a group hug. The three women held each other, sobbing - knowing and not knowing the moment they shared would be a time they longed for again.

"We're so happy to see you, but why are we crying?" Makoto asked and stepped away, rubbing tears from her cheeks. "This is a joyous occasion." She smiled and looked over to the counter at Akira who stood with his hands in his pockets - reminding her of their days of youth.

"I - I'm getting married."

* * *

There was silence in the cafe. The only sounds were of white noise, that struggled to fill the dead atmosphere. Rain and it's gentle pitter patter; coffee cups touching saucers; slurping; gulping; the white noise of living could not compete with the tension that vacuumed normalcy out of the quaint Leblanc. Akira washed the dishes and the water ran. He wondered if Morgana would want him to bring back something...or if Haru would want curry for dinner. He wondered hard. He hoped anything else would come to his mind to distract him from Ann's engagement.

Ryuji sat at the counter, his back to everyone. He couldn't look Ann in the eye after the news. It was like time stopped. He felt as helpless as he did when his high school track team disbanded. He periodically looked to Akira, who seemed far more removed from the moment, then he wished to be.

"I'm sorry we're not more cheerful," Yusuke said. He touched Ann's hand across the table. Futaba sat beside her, typing away. She was researching the man Ann spoke of when she announced her engagement. She curious to know who he was, the kind of work he did and how they met. It didn't cross her mind to ask Ann.

"It's fine. I was shocked too - when he proposed."

"Well - how'd you meet?" Makoto asked. She sipped her coffee and waited for Ann's response.

"Michael ...well, he's a photographer. He does well for himself. We live in this pretty nice apartment in Brooklyn…"

"It is very lovely," Yusuke remarked. Ryuji turned around to glare at Yusuke, but his face softened when seeing Ann's smile.

"I'm really, really happy." Ann held her hands over her chest and closed her lids. Her long, exaggerated lashes were clearly false - part of elaborate makeup - but Ryuji found himself taken by her beauty like he always had been. The silence that lingered post her statement was broken; Akira dropped a dish, and it shattered on the floor. Ryuji looked over to see the man kneeling on the ground, gathering the shards. Akira didn't say anything about the small cut on his cheek, right beneath his eye. His oversized frames simply weren't large enough to protect his face or hide his discontent. Ryuji said nothing. Akira said nothing.

As evening crept up, the rain kept a steady downpour. Futaba retreated to the attic and fell asleep, wrapped in the same blankets of the old mattress that was once the resting place of their group's 'leader'. Makoto was the first to go, as she received a text from Sae, about not feeling well. Ryuji offered to walk her to the train station but never returned. Yusuke left after leaving Ann and Akira in the cafe. She sat at the counter. Her long, over embellished dress, touched the floor, though her seat was raised off the ground. Ann seemed like a runaway bride in her exaggerated dress; ruffled and billowy. She stared at the cup of coffee, made just the way she liked - the way she remembered.

"Congratulations," Akira said very simply. He did not leave his space behind the counter. He also didn't make eye contact with her. He was afraid to, though he wouldn't say so.

"Thank you."

"He sounds like a nice guy."

"He is."

"Can I see your ring?" Ann looked up at Akira. She blinked a few times; her lashes fluttered. She extended her left hand to him and he gently held it in his own. Akira pushed his frames over his eyes, leaving them to sit atop his head. He looked carefully at the large diamond. He stared at it long - perhaps with the hope that it would shatter like the dish from earlier. "It's lovely. It suits you."

"Don't lie. I hate it," She pulled her hand away and covered it with her other hand. "I'm lying. I love it."

"You don't love it?"

"He chose it."

"You hate it." Akira removed his frames from his head and ran his fingers through his hair.

"I hate the ring, but I love him, so I love the ring." Ann looked to Akira. Her cheeks burned red; her lipstick paled in comparison to its natural rosiness. She looked away as she found she stared at him too long. He blushed himself, unsure why.

"I'm happy for you," He lied. He lied, without knowing he did. He believed it was something to be said. Something friends say to each other when good things like marriage came up. He said 'I'm happy for you' to Yusuke when he had his first overseas art show. He said it to Ryuji when he became a certified personal trainer. He said it to Makoto when she texted him she was going to be an aunt; to Futaba at her first presentation at the university. He said it and meant it.

Why couldn't he mean it when he said it to Ann? He truly wanted her happiness. Perhaps - more than his own, though he'd never tell her - or anyone - he really and truly did.

Ann carefully made her way down from the bar stool. She abandoned her overpriced designer heels and approached Akira behind the counter; barefoot. "Don't," He exclaimed. "I didn't clean up all the broken - " and without his permission, she wrapped her arms him and pressed her cheek to his chest. At the moment, he lost the ability to move.

"Thank you." She said, muffled. She pressed her face into his chest and clenched the cotton fabric with long, dainty fingers. Akira placed his hands on her shoulders and Ann pulled away a bit to look up into his eyes. Though it was difficult, he forced a smile. She smiled back. She pressed her face to his chest again and Akira held her, tightly - as if afraid he'd lose her. "Thank you." She said again.

Haru stood outside Leblanc, cell phone held to her ear. The endless ring droning in her head. Though she called him multiple times, Akira never answered his phone. It rang into voice mail each time, but his phone remained in his pants pocket.


	2. Doorways

**Doorways**

The rain was unforgiving that day. April was like that. Traffic jams; umbrellas; assholes and their umbrellas; children in colorful rain boots and an irritable Ryuji. He hated how packed the trains were, especially on rainy days. He was pressed by some stranger and stood body to body with Makoto, who got off at the next stop to transfer. During their time together his arm draped around her waist and he held her close. The train seemed more crowded than usual and she couldn't hold herself up very well. Ryuji held her; the more packed the train, closer they were pressed. With his available arm, he held the railing and held her with the other. He apologized for touching her somewhat suggestively but furrowed his brow when she didn't say anything. She did not seem to hear his apology as she was lost in a world of her own.

After exiting the station, Ryuji stopped by the convenience store. He bought beer and some bananas. He made his way to Lana's apartment and abandoned the gym bag holding his wet clothes on the floor of the entrance. He left the items of his store run on the coffee table and opened a beer for himself. As he walked to her bedroom, sipping his cool alcoholic beverage, he pulled off his newly wet garments and left them in various places. His soaked socks were ditched by the foot of the sofa; his drenched shirt in the hallway; his water-logged pants on the rug of her bedroom floor.

Her apartment always made him feel bad about his own. It was nice – very nice. Wood throughout; Afro-Portuguese paintings on the walls; photos of her world travels. On the nightstand - by her bed - a photo of them. He only realized it was there after he accidentally placed his beer on it, mistakenly thinking it was a coaster. The image, simply a series of burst shots from a photo booth. It wasn't large or framed. It was just laid out there, uncovered; unprotected.

One shot of a kiss.

One shot with their tongues out.

One shot of her pulling his blonde hair.

He ran his fingers through his cropped russet hair. He dyed his hair blonde for so long, that when he stopped he almost didn't recognize himself; but she entreated and he did as she requested. How was that not love? Leaving your wet clothing on the floor because you know she'll forgive you for buying a six-pack and bananas; waking up in bed together most mornings; kisses; breakfast. His toes curled at the way she called his name. "Ryu-kun." She'd say. She'd feed him vegan pancakes, run her fingers through his hair, make him feel like a champ in the bedroom. And she always wanted it.

He was surprised as he understood men as being more interested in sexual relations, but he also heard women peaked at thirty. Lana was older; almost thirty. That counted, or so he thought. He loved how rough she liked it. His hands on her hips and her full and firm buttocks; her mouth on his. Their kisses were suffocating; delirium. He often bought the bananas just to watch her eat them. She knew he enjoyed it, so she'd take her time –

That wasn't it. It wasn't. It just wasn't love.

When did he want love?

Perhaps when seeing those photos of Ann and Michael. Ryuji frequently scrolled through photos on her social media page. While everyone else was shocked, he knew very well she cut her hair; just how lovely the inside of her apartment was; that she and Michael were quite serious. How could he really believe she was in love? She used something like social media to display her relationship. It was superficial and empty and –

"Hey, you. The bath's ready," He turned over from his spot on her bed and saw her standing in the doorway of the en-suite. Her dark, coffee skin exposed; nipples, like Hersey Kisses; her kinky, curly hair dripped with water. He was never short of amazed by her beauty. He even loved her belly's little 'pouch' after they ate too much for dinner. Without wasting time, Ryuji pulled off his wet boxers and met Lana in the doorway with a kiss. "I'm sorry for yelling at you earlier." She whispered.

"Don't be sorry." He kissed her collarbone and picked her up. With a giggle, Lana wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist.

"I am. I should never say mean things like that you." Her expression changed. She seemed quite serious.

"It's okay."

"I – I get insecure. Like, you don't want your friends to meet me, because of how I look, or something..."

"No! No, that's not it. That'd never be the case. It's me. I'm the insecure one. I just…I don't want everyone to see how beautiful you are. I'm afraid someone will take you away from me." He kissed her temple. Lana felt her cheeks warm. The two entered the tub together and he held her close to him while they soaked.

"I want to meet the people that are important to you because you're important to me," Lana kissed Ryuji's chin and his lids fell, heavy. As he closed his eyes, he listened to the drip of the faucet, and Lana's talk of the future she wanted for them. In the darkness of his eyelids, he could only see Ann's rosy cheeks and smiling face. His eyes fluttered open and he stared at the white bathroom tile, reminding himself of where he was. "I love you, Ryuji." He could hear Ann's voice – plaguing him in the back of his head. Though he said it back to Lana, it was not Lana whom he wished for it to be said to.

* * *

The apartment complex in which the older Niijima sister took residence was worlds away from the high-end apartment of Makoto's high school days. It was quaint – homey. Makoto stood in the kitchen and turned on the gas stove. She enjoyed the 'click' it made before the flames arose beneath the kettle. A pregnant Sae walked in from the living room and kissed her younger sister on the cheek. She made fashion in an old house dress with sporadic holes as she waddled to the dining table and took her time sitting down. She was worlds away from who she used to be as well.

"Thanks for coming over right away."

"Of course. If you need anything..." Makoto turned to her with a smile she struggled to make. Sae couldn't help but smile back, despite how unwell she felt.

"I keep hoping she'll just pop out or something. Like – when I'm sleeping. I don't want to feel anything. Just wake up and there be a baby in a bassinet beside me," She laughed. Makoto giggled and sat down across from her sister observing her apparent exhaustion.

Sae had changed radically over the years. After becoming a defense attorney, she continued to work many long hours but was genuinely happier. She took great pride in her work and showed her sister a new side of herself. When the younger Niijima sister graduated from college, they celebrated by going to Paris for a week. They become 'foodie sisters' and even talked about starting a blog. That summer, they wined and dined at the best restaurants, went dancing in the hippest places, and flirted with attractive French men, who found their Japanese accents 'magnifique.' Before they returned - as a gift into her adulthood - Sae bought her sister an expensive handbag; one that Makoto would carry with her regularly.

"How was seeing everyone?" Sae asked, and began braiding her long hair into a side ponytail. It grew quite long rather quickly due to her pregnancy and reached just above her buttocks.

"It was good. Futaba was her usual quirky self. Yusuke and Ryuji – "To Sae, Makoto seemed to force her words. She could hear the dispassion of her tone; her delivery more like a report than a fond recollection of an overdue reunion.

"How's – well…" Sae began. She knew where her sister's true concerns were. What she really wanted to say. Who she really wanted to say it to.

"Good. He looks good. He cut his hair a bit," Makoto arose from her spot at the table and grabbed mugs from the cabinet. She set them on to the counter and grabbed a couple of tea bags from a canister. "Maybe Haru talked him into cutting it. I know Ryuji stopped dying his hair because of his girlfriend – "The whistle of the kettle blew and Makoto paused. She stopped moving as the hot steam blew from the spout. Her eyes welled with tears. She rubbed them away.

"Are you okay, Makoto? You don't…we don't have to talk about it." Sae said. She noticed Makoto's discomfort and thought it'd be best to change the subject.

"I'm fine." She said in a whisper.

"I know you're stressed between work and studying for the LSAT, but really, take your time," Sae tried to arise from her chair but struggled and sat back down. She rubbed her stomach and sighed. "Is it selfish for me to want you to stay the night?"

"I have work tomorrow," Makoto answered as she placed a cup of tea in front of Sae and headed out the kitchen, knowing Sae couldn't follow quickly. "I gotta get home to study – "

"Why? Why do you want to go to law school in America, of all places?" Sae shouted. She tried again to raise her body from her chair but was far too weak from exhaustion. Her contractions kept her up the previous night, and in addition to her worry for Makoto, she didn't want to be alone. "You're running!"

"I'm not!" Makoto pulled on her trench coat and walked to the doorway to pull on her shoes. She grabbed her umbrella and designer handbag, opened the door, but stopped as tremendous guilt filled her. She was running away. Running, when her sister needed her most. She was confused, frustrated but most of all tired. Tired from late nights of studying, long work hours as a paralegal – and insomnia. She even took sleep aides occasionally.

"Makoto," Sae stood behind her sister. As she spoke there was almost a plea in her voice. "I worry about you." It was certainly difficult, but she made it out the kitchen; she needed – wanted – Makoto to stay.

"Just stop, Sae! I'm not a kid."

"What about us? Me and the baby. If you won't stay for me, at least stay for her."

"Don't do this. Don't say that – "

"You're right. I am guilting you. Stay. For me. I'm doing it, but I'm having a hard time. Really. The other women in the complex give me shit when they see me leaving for work – and I say that I don't care, but really…eight months pregnant and alone. If you go the states to school, who will I have? Who will be here for this little Niijima that only has a mother?" Makoto faced her older sister and took note of the bags under her eyes; how exhausted she looked. It was hard being pregnant alone. They stood to face each other, both overwhelmed by exhaustion, guilt, and frustration. "And I'm worried about you."

"Ann came back." Makoto pulled off her shoes.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, she's engaged." She hung up her coat and walked over to Sae. She touched her stomach, rubbing it in a circular motion.

"She is a nice girl. It was a matter of time."

The two walked over to the sofa and sat down together. Makoto leaned on to Sae's shoulder and felt warm tears filling her eyes. "I – I know this is silly, but I think Akira still has feelings for her." Her voice began to crack. She couldn't explain why she felt such strong emotions. Perhaps she was just too tired to fight it.

"Yeah? Why?"

"Because it's so painfully obvious. When he looked at her," Makoto raised her head from Sae's shoulder and brought her hands to her face. "I saw myself in him. So much." She covered her face and sobbed. Though her precious little sister was in tears, Sae was glad she stayed.

* * *

The blinds were open, giving way to sunlight to pour in. The sky was a laundry water blue and the rain of yesterday was no longer a thought to the working people of Shibuya. They seemed like ants from the hotel window. Her suite was filled with roses sent by advertisement companies and designers. Every table had large arrangements. She began to run out of places to put them and was forced to dine in other ways. Ann ate a savory crepe while wearing an oversized sweater and sitting on her California king-sized mattress. She scrolled through her business social media image platform, leaving emojis as replies to endearing comments from her fans.

'Ann-chan kawaii! ^.^' Made her smile quite a bit. She giggled to 'Ann, marry me.'. She had yet to announce her engagement publicly and wondered what her fans would think of Akira – who was not her finance. She stopped eating and stared at her phone as she saw she opened her messaging app to send him a 'good morning' text. She meant to send that to Michael. He would join her in a few weeks for their official engagement party. It was to be a surprise to her business partners, associates, and parents. The plan was to launch her original all-natural makeup line for women and then announce her engagement. It was Michael's brilliant idea – so how in the world did she end up thinking of Akira?

Ann held her fork in her mouth, deep in thought. It wasn't like she ever stopped thinking about him. When she left for New York, it was without telling him. He found out after she had gone. He found out through Ryuji. He found out after they were intimate for the last time. He found out after they talked about moving in together; after they talked about finally telling their friends they were secretly dating again when he moved back to Shibuya.

So many moments occurred before she decided to leave behind the people she loved, take a chance on herself and live out her dreams and ambitions. She was tired of being a 'teen' model and wanted to become an icon that inspired women all over the world. Though Japan was known for its futuristic fashion – it didn't give the platform she needed. She was always seen as beautiful and 'exotic' but brushed over by companies that wanted more Japanese looking models to sell to Japanese women.

She didn't want to leave him behind. She didn't want to go without him. She loved spending days in the attic – just them. She loved petting Morgana until he fell asleep; reading books with Futaba at the counter. She loved talking to Sojiro over coffee. She loved when Akira made her coffee. It was as if he poured his love into every cappuccino. He became exceptionally good at latte art and made her hearts and flowers. She saw herself married to him one day; him greeting her with coffee in the morning and a kiss on her cheek. She had such a thought when she admitted her love for him while they were teenagers. She had such a thought when they secretly dated seriously as college students, and here she was having the thought as someone else's fiancée.

No, she had never stopped thinking about him.

Even after breaking his heart and abandoning him, she never stopped loving him. Ann pushed her plate to the side, got out of bed and stretched while looking down at the people on Central Street. They were all so small. Never did she imagine having such a view, or such a grandiose suite filled with roses from entities desperate to work with her. At twenty-six, she lived out her dream of becoming an international supermodel that inspired girls and women everyone. She lived out all her dreams, but one.

There was a sudden ring to the suite. She headed to the door and without checking, opened it, assuming it was room service. There he stood, with a breaded grin from ear to ear, green eyes that reminded her of the Caribbean Sea, and long dark wavy hair that made her think of the ocean. "Michael – you're," he cut her off with a kiss and pulled her close to him. Ann was forced on her tiptoes as to reach him and overwhelmed by his passion.

"I couldn't wait anymore." He said as they parted. Michael caught Ann off guard a second time; picked her up, threw her over his shoulder and made his way into the suite using his foot to close the door behind him.


	3. Apologies

A/n: I really enjoy writing this fic. Your feedback helps me write better. Please comment. Thank you.

 **Apologies**

"What are you doing here? I thought you had several projects to wrap up," Ann sat on the sofa of the living area in the massive hotel suite. Her fiance, Michael, walked around the room excitedly while they discussed his unexpected early arrival.

"Well, I wrapped up things ahead of schedule and got on the next flight," Michael walked over to his ashen blonde fiancée and pinched her cheeks. Ann poked his cheek and the two exchanged cheesy smiles. He pulled away from her as her pointed nail dug too deep into his cheekbone. He then threw himself onto the sofa and rested his head in her lap. His long legs dangled over the arm of the chair. "and I couldn't wait to see you." Ann ran her fingers through his thick, dark hair.

Michael was about six-feet tall, with a full, but neat beard and dark hair. His green eyes were what attracted Ann and his amazingly pearly white smile. At the start of their relationship, she found him attractive, but she did not want to date him – until she saw him for the kind man he was in and outside his photography.

Shiho visited Ann a couple of years into her New York lifestyle; post being married and giving birth to her first child. Michael volunteered to be Shiho's American tour guide on days Ann had shoots she couldn't avoid. He even practiced Japanese as to communicate with her better. Though he was being overly friendly as to impress Ann, he successfully did so on a day the one day he wasn't trying. Before Shiho returned home, Michael offered to take photos of her post baby body. He had done so after Ann flippantly suggested Shiho should do a shoot of her own. A bit after that, Michael planned a surprise photo shoot for Shiho. She photographed in overpriced lingerie bought by Ann. This, in conjunction with Michael's encouragement, helped Shiho fall in love with the body that gave life to another. She regained self-love she didn't realize she lost – and Ann then believed perhaps Michael was a man she could love, someday.

"Well," Ann began, "since you're here early – what do you want to do?"

"See the sights. And Eat. Lots. Oh, and I want to your meet your friends! I've been practicing my Japanese." Michael sat up excitedly. Ann giggled, finding his boyish mannerisms charming.

"Okay, okay," Ann said holding his face and running her fingers over his beard. She pulled his face close to her and kissed his nose. "I can't wait for everyone to meet you as well."

* * *

Mornings were unusually quiet in the Okumura – Kurusu household. Haru would wake early, shower and then after getting ready for work, take time to prepare breakfast. Akira would sleep for as long as time would allow. He'd make his way to the kitchen for breakfast in time to kiss Haru on the forehead before she left for the day. Neither of them could identify when they stopped speaking in the mornings. Their relationship was based on their ability to be open with each other. But now – she was terribly afraid to ask him what really haunted her mind.

Ann. Her return. It was bothering her yes, but could she really say it to him? Could she really ask him about her concerns? She should be able to; she was always able to tell him of her frustrations and fears. He always heard her out. They began seeing each other when it was he who called her one night with something on his mind. They met for after work drinks and he talked of his loneliness since Ann's leave. He often feigned confidence, that it didn't bother him – being alone – but at times he greatly desired someone to talk to; about anything. Talking to Morgana helped, but it wasn't the same. She offered to be that person and they spent many evenings talking over the phone. Sometimes he popped into her office with Leblanc curry. Other times she'd show up to the café after work and work on her laptop until closing. They shared their first kiss over a pot of curry they made together. They made love the first time when he showed up at her apartment late one night. She let him in and without words, they became intimate on the sofa. In the morning, she told him she wanted to be with him and he kissed her forehead telling her he'd like nothing more.

Perhaps dialogue became hard after Akira came home drunk one night. Mishima was kind enough to bring him back, and Haru – who was already tired from her long day – met them in the lobby. As Yuuki handed Akira off to her, the former Phantom thief leader pulled her into a close hug and whispered to her, 'I'm sorry'.

That night, as she undressed him and put him to bed, he kept apologizing. She didn't understand why he did so and grew irritable. The following morning, he threw up constantly and she didn't go to the office to care for him. He apologized – again – for making her work from home because of his negligence. She tried her best to reassure him it was fine, but he always seemed apologetic; like he owed her something. Shortly after they stopped being a "normal" pair. They stopped going on dates and only went out together with their friends. Soon after they found no need to sleep next to each other as they no longer had sex. Morgana was caught between the two people he favored, but with Akira's reassurance, slept in Haru's room. He'd lay at the foot of her bed and watched her work on her laptop until she fell asleep. When that happened, he would wake Akira, who'd come into the room, clear Haru's bed of her things, and tuck her in.

The night he came home, after the overdue reunion and Ann's announcement, he did the same. On this occasion, Haru woke and touched his cheek. She stared into his large eyes and removed his glasses from his face. He climbed into the bed next to her and they shared a kiss for the first in a long time. Then they were intimate. Though she orgasmed multiple times, Haru was greatly displeased. Akira treated her different in bed that night. He grabbed, pulled, touched and made love to her like he was with someone else. When it was all over, he arose from the bed and apologized once more. She knew his mind was elsewhere, and he knew she was aware. Once he left the room and closed the door behind him, he heard Haru's loud sobs on the other side. Akira sank to the floor feeling guilt, remorse, and regret. It was apparent during their intimacy – he made love to Haru, thinking of Ann instead.

That morning, with wavy hair and makeup well done, Haru prepared breakfast for Akira. She herself, didn't feel to eat. She was too upset. She wanted to talk – and they had not done so since the other night.

Akira – in nothing but sweats - made his way to the kitchen with a yawn. His exposed chest revealed her favorite part of his firm and lean body. Haru noted and looked away, as she felt embarrassment for finding him attractive even in her upset. He looked at Haru, dressed in a tight pencil skirt and a white blouse and couldn't help the thoughts that crossed his mind. He crept up on her, wrapping his arms around her waist, pressing his morning manhood against her bottom and nibbled on her earlobe. "Can I have you for breakfast?" He asked. His voice was low, still filled with sleep. Haru turned to face him and was cut off by a kiss that made Morgana – who slept on the sofa – run off into another room. Though she wanted to resist him, it felt like it had been too long since they were so close. She found kissing Akira felt foreign, but his touch felt overdue. At that time, she felt like he genuinely wanted her. She ran her fingers through his hair carelessly as ran his hands up her thighs. As he began pushing up her skirt, she stopped him. No matter how she badly wanted him, Haru worried he touched her with Ann on his mind. Haru pulled away from him; her face hot from blushing.

"Breakfast is ready." She said and stepped away to fix her clothing. Akira grabbed a spoon and dug into his grapefruit.

"Thanks."

"I wanted to…talk." Akira turned to her; the spoon stayed in his mouth as he faced her. "The other night –"

"The other night?" He asked.

"Yeah. The other night, when you came in," She paused. Could she ruin the rest of their relationship with questions about Ann? "Never mind. Forget I said anything." Haru grabbed her blazer and briefcase and headed to the doorway, where she put on her heels. As she reached for the knob, Akira's words stopped her.

"What's wrong? I know things haven't been great – but you can tell me, Haru."

"Do you – do you still love her?" Haru squeezed the doorknob and at once regretted her words. She was wrong to ask. She was wrong to bring it up and remind him that his feelings for Ann had never changed. Before he could respond she cut him off, "Forget I said anything!" In great haste, she opened the apartment door and rushed out the apartment. She was grateful the elevator arrived quickly and was empty so that she had the few moments alone to sob in on her way down.

The spoon had fallen from Akira's possession and onto the floor. Morgana made his way from the room and walked around his legs. He sat upright and looked up to his longtime friend with worry. Akira stood there, his face pale from shock and discomfiture.

Was it that obvious?

* * *

Before the weekend ended, Akira left Haru's apartment and returned to the attic of Leblanc. They did not speak.

He felt like a teenager again, sitting in the old mattress of his 'former' pad. Though it had not been too long since he had been there, it felt like ages. He believed he and Haru needed space to sort out their feelings. He left Morgana with Haru as he worried about her being alone; not that she wasn't alone before and totally capable – he just felt bad. Bad about leaving without a goodbye; about not trying to talk out their feelings on the subject matter. It happened to him before, and now he did the same to her.

Akira tossed himself on to one of the pillows. It smelled like Futaba's shampoo. This was her second home. He hoped she wouldn't mind him invading. As his lids fell heavy with sorrow he couldn't identify, he began to recollect days spent in that same attic, devising plans to advance their operations as Phantom Thieves. So many years ago – they fought for something they all believed in. How he missed such days, filled with naivete, passion and things greater than themselves. They set out to reform the world, but after all their efforts, only grew to become part of it; it was inevitable.

He slept long. Morning crept in and he opened his eyes to the 'pi' of his phone. He got ready quickly and prepared to open for the day. Futaba and Sojiro stopped by for breakfast and the café became quiet until noon when Ann stopped by.

She wore cigarette skinny jeans and a stylish top that exposed her shoulders. Her face seemed dewy; the makeup she wore. She was as beautiful as always, but those were not the things that consumed Akira. It was who she appeared with; Michael.

"Hey," He said with a smile. "Welcome to Leblanc."

"You're way too formal," Ann told him as she and Michael made their way to the middle booth. The sat across from each other as Ann told him of the place's famous coffee and curry. Akira grabbed a couple of menus from under the counter and walked over to his guests. He placed he menus on the table and turned to give them a moment to order. Ann grabbed his apron, beaming, "I flipped the sign. So, since Leblanc is now 'closed' for lunch you can have lunch with us."

Akira sat beside Ann while the three dined on curry. The meal was awkward as lunches with exes and their new partners tend to be. Michael wasted no time to break the ice. "This is very good, Kurusu-san," He said in his best Japanese. Akira smiled, pretending to be impressed by how well he spoke.

"Thank you. Your Japanese is not too bad." He complimented, though he thought it was not too good either.

"Ann-chan has been a very good teacher." Michael reached across the table and the two interlocked fingers. Akira saw this from the corner of his eye and pushed up his frames with his middle finger. He wondered if Michael knew he and Ann were once an item; if he was making it known they were now together. "How's your English, Kurusu?" Michael asked. Akira looked up and saw in his eyes a genuine friendliness. The man was not making any attempts to 'tag' Ann, he already had her. He felt bad for feeling jealous. There was no competition. Ann leaned in Michael as spoke. She hung on his every word. She really loved him?

"It's not so good. I've watched a lot of western television, so I've picked up a few things."

"Well – Ann here is the one that speaks different languages. I'm sure she can help us both learn something new, right?"

"You just like showing me off." She giggled, and without intention, Akira rolled his eyes. Michael took note of this but did not say anything. He knew very well how Akira felt, but he wouldn't let it stop him from being polite or ruin Ann's good time. He asked to meet Ann's friends, and that is what they were doing.

"What have you done so far?" Akira asked in English. He impressed Michael by how well he enunciated his words. Though his accent was heavy, Michael found he understood Akira perfectly fine. He wondered if Ann liked that. He suddenly felt a bit of insecurity.

"To see sights. I've taken many photos. Nothing crazy."

"That's good. And, congratulations on your engagement. I'm sure you'll make Ann very happy." Akira switched from English to Japanese quickly, and Ann looked to him. His words, though inoffensive, he said with some contempt; something she did not expect from Akira. Michael looked at her, unsure of what he said. Ann poked Akira in the side and explained to Michael in English.

"Oh, thank you. Yes, Ann makes me very happy as well." Michael's phone went off and he excused himself from the table. He stepped outside the café and Ann glared at Akira, who exited the booth, pulled off his apron and made his way to the attic. Ann arose and followed.

"What the hell is your problem?" She asked from the bottom of the stairwell. She felt her face hot from upset, but also nervousness. She hadn't been to the attic since her leave. Being in such an intimate space with him made her a tad bit uneasy, but bringing her 'new man' made Akira uncomfortable; it was only fair she took the time to hear him out. She climbed the steps. Upon her entry, she saw even his space stayed unchanged. It was like stepping into a time machine.

"I don't have a problem." He lied. Of course, he did. He had plenty reason to – they hadn't seen each other for half a decade – but here she was, flaunting her new man in his place of business; her finance.

"He's trying to be nice."

"He is very nice." He said bitingly.

"So, what's with the attitude? I thought you'd be cool."

"Why would you think that?" Akira paced around the attic floor; he tried to remain calm; he failed. "You left Ann! You left and you didn't say anything to me. You didn't call, text, you didn't answer my emails – and you just left! Then you show up years later with some guy – how could you think anyone would be cool about that?!"

"You said you were happy for me."

"I am happy for you, but don't think that means I don't have other feelings. You didn't break up with me. You just vanished."

"I had my reasons."

"Why didn't you tell me you were leaving?"

"Because if I did – I would have stayed," Ann sat on the old sofa of the attic. Memories of their time together flooded her thoughts. The kisses they shared; the late nights they talked; the meetings with their friends; the rise and the fall of the Phantom Thieves. Akira sat on his bed and the two did not make eye contact. "I was afraid that if I told you, and you asked me to stay – I would have."

Michael re-entered the café. He called out to Ann and she hurried downstairs. Akira sat there. He felt his heart break in a way he did not know it could. After so many years, the wounds still felt deep and quite recent. Even then, she left without finishing her words; she just vanished – not saying enough. Not saying anything. Not even goodbye. He walked downstairs and the saw the café empty. She really had gone without saying a word to him. He pulled on his apron and headed outside to the flip the sign back to 'open'. As he made his way back to the counter Ann returned. He turned to see her. Why did she come back?

"I asked Michael to wait for me at the hotel. He's gone."

"You should go too."

"We didn't talk then – it obviously bothers you – let's talk now."

"What is there to say?"

"I'm sorry." Ann walked over to him and wrapped her arms around the slender man. Akira stood there, unmoving. His mouth felt dry. It was different than when she first returned. Then, he genuinely missed her and was truly happy to see her; now – she was this variable. She made him lose all cool. When they were young, it had been the other way around.

She pressed her cheek to his chest and closed her eyes. She held him tightly. "I'm really sorry that I hurt you."

"Ann, please – "

"I was wrong."

"Stop."

"I was wrong to leave you like that and I – "

"Please!" He forcefully moved her away, holding her by her shoulders. Akira looked into her blue eyes, intently. His onyx orbs seemed filled with an overwhelming sadness and Ann felt it was about time she came to terms with her wrongs. She wondered how could she make up for her sin. How could she heal the heart of the man who gave her so much in her youth? He not only saved her but inspired her. He gave her the courage to give others courage. How could she abandon one of the reasons for her success?

She couldn't. She tried hard to, but she couldn't. She moved his hands from her shoulders, freeing his grip from her and stepped to him again. She looked at him; into his eyes – confusion and almost fear behind them. She held the straps of his apron and pulled him down to eye level with her. Akira felt his face burn from embarrassment. For as long as he remembered, he was the calm and cool one. At that moment, he didn't know what those words meant. "Please forgive me." She let go of her hold.

Akira stepped back. He pushed his glasses over his forehead and covered his eyes with his hand. Ann could feel his frustration, as she had her own. She sighed deeply and turned away from Akira. He grabbed her hand. Ann looked back to him; his other hand still guarding those eyes that once held kindness, compassion, and a sense of justice. She waited. She waited for his response. For his acceptance or rejection of her apology.

Words did not come from Akira - in the glow of the afternoon that poured into the windows of Leblanc - only silence; and they kissed, repeatedly.


	4. Unsaid

**Unsaid**

 _"Let's break up."_

 _"Are you serious?"_

 _"Yes."_

 _"Really? That's the best you can do?"_

 _"Ryuji!" She shouted and poked him in the ribs. Ryuji twisted and contorted in an undesirable fashion as he tried to suppress his laughter. They sat in her bed after having lunch. Plastic bowls of ramen noodles sat at the foot of her bed and Ann made a mental note to clean up thoroughly after Ryuji left. She was always a little less tidy when he was around._

 _She threw herself into the many pillows on her bed and Ryuji made his way to the door. "You gotta do better than that, Ann." She looked up at him and then away._

 _"I can't do it. I can't say it to him."_

 _"You've said it to me a bunch, just now!" He exclaimed. He was mildly offended._

 _"It's different. What if he doesn't understand me? Or what if he'll be upset, or -"_

 _Ryuji walked over to Ann's bed and sat down beside her. His ran his fingers through his blonde hair and then sighed. He looked at Ann as she stared out the window. He knew she turned away because she could no longer hold in her tears. Here he was, helping his best friend practice breaking up with his other best friend; but he loved Ann, and when she confided in him and asked for his help he could not muster up no. The word did not exist._

 _He tapped her shoulder and she didn't face him. He then climbed onto the bed and crawled over to her line of vision. He was right. Blue eyes filled with such hurt he felt he could cry as well. He crossed his legs over each other and held her face. "Again," he said in a low voice._

 _"I can't," She sobbed. Her nose began to run and he pressed his forehead to hers. He didn't care that it would hurt Akira. He didn't care that he had become a traitor to his friend and even his own love for her; Ann wanted to go to New York to be somebody and nothing - not even his love for her - would stop him from helping to make her dreams come true. "I can't do it!"_

 _"You can tell me. Go on, say it to me." He closed his eyes and spoke to her, not as a practice Akira, but as himself; truly himself._

 _"I love you," She closed her eyes and tried to imagine Akira. She tried to finish her sentence, but struggled to make words come out, "but I – I can't do it, Ryuji…"_

 _"Do what?"_

 _"This. I can't do it to him."_

 _"Say it." He needed it for himself._

 _She cried more and they stayed forehead to forehead for a time they could not measure. Ann placed her hands on Ryuji's and removed them from their place on her cheeks. She held Ryuji's hands in her own; he felt the drops of her tears on his skin. She lowered her head, sinking in the misery of the hardest decision she was not able to make._

"Let's break up."

Lana looked at Ryuji from the other end of the sofa. She stared at him long and hard. Her lips quivered as she tried to speak, "Wha – what?"

Ryuji's gaze did not change. He looked at the television and did not blink. Everything about him seemed frozen in time. The only movement he made was that of his lips. He repeated his earlier statement.

"Let's break up."

* * *

The lounge was dimly lit. Smooth jazz played and young women ordered drinks from the bar. A man walked over and took a seat with the group of young women. They enjoyed his company and when two of them stepped away the man moved his seat closer to the solo girl. They stared at each other, an indescribable haze in their eyes. Makoto moved her seat over from the two once they began kissing. She should have gone home to study. She should have turned her phone on. She should have been with Sae, but instead, she wanted to be in the dimly lit lounge to drink her problems away. It was not the best idea, but it wasn't the worst, yet.

She ordered a whiskey soda and drank it too quickly. After her second in the same fifteen minutes, the bartender suggested she eat. When she refused he served her French fries on the house. An hour later - and on Makoto's third drink - the couple had left the bar. Perhaps it was her time to go too. She stood up but found she felt a bit too unstable. She regretted wearing heels that day. Why didn't she just stick to her to riding boots like always? She scolded herself mentally, multiple times. As she sat back down she saw a familiar brunette approach the bar. He ordered a beer and she was sure it was him, "Ryuji?" She called. He turned his head and noticed Makoto at the end of the counter. After the bartender served his drink, he grabbed it and moved over some seats to sit beside her.

"Hey. What are you doing here?" Ryuji inquired.

Makoto held up her drink, "What does it look like?" Ryuji laughed a bit at his own silly question. Makoto smiled since it had been a while since she saw him display anything that looked like joy.

"That was a pretty silly question, I guess." He took a swig of his beer and grabbed a French fry from her plate.

"Hey!" She called out, feigning distress. There was a curve at the corner of her lips. Ryuji ate more of her fries and Makoto eventually joined in. Once the fries vanished from the plate he ordered a second beer and insisted Makoto have water. He then repeated his silly question, though it was less silly the second time around.

"Well," Makoto ran her finger on the side of her glass of water. She looked at the water, feeling shame from drinking so much and it being obvious, "I'm just really stressed out with my sister, the baby, studying..."

"Is that it?" Ryuji asked.

"No." She looked away.

"I won't ask again. I – I know." He said and took another sip of his beverage.

"How'd you –"

"You look like…well, you look like me." He said to her. Makoto stared into Ryuji's brown eyes and took him seriously for a moment. He was indeed handsome. A bit unkempt; light scruff from not shaving for a few days. He appeared rugged, but had a tenderness in his words; always sincere. She looked away from him as she felt her cheeks burning from blushing.

She found him attractive. Perhaps it was the liquor or the dim lights of the place, but her body burned with a desire to have him. She scolded herself multiple times, but each time their eyes met, he appeared more and more desirable to her. Ryuji placed his beer bottle to his lips and she watched as he swallowed. Though his Adam's apple was not as prominent as Akira's, Ryuji was nothing short of appealing.

She blamed the alcohol. She blamed it for the unwise decision she was ready to make. As Ryuji placed the beer bottle back to the counter he turned his head and felt warm lips press against his own. He opened his mouth to allow her dominate tongue entry to his own. Her arms wrapped around his neck. He pulled her so close she almost tipped out of her chair. They both moaned deeply as their tongues danced. The bartender headed to the opposite end of the counter to allow them privacy. When they parted, Ryuji touched her face. He sent his thumb over her lips and felt just how soft they were. He wondered if Ann's lips felt that way, but then he thought to himself why wonder? Makoto was there before him, interested; why think on someone as far away as Ann? He kissed her again and made up his mind that breaking up with Lana was a clever idea. He would not pretend anymore. He would just do.

They stumbled into his apartment, still with their lips pressed against each other heavily. They parted few times. They only drew away from each other to shed garments. He was glad Makoto wore a dress because it came off with the pull of one zipper. She was excited by his well-toned arms and chest and wondered why she did not take notice of him before. She was impressed by his legs, which were lean and powerful. Being a runner gave him the body of Adonis, and she didn't mind at all. It was easy to forget Akira then. It was easy to only see Ryuji. His package was quite the display as well.

He was strong, but gentle when their they touched skin. He laid her on his bed; kissed her collarbone and the valley between her breasts. She was thrilled when he kissed between her thighs voluntarily. She never imagined someone like Ryuji to choose the task of giving oral stimulation, but that night she learned how he much liked it; that controlling someone's pleasure on that scale was a power play and he dominated.

She cried out in ecstasy and wondered if she was close to having her first orgasm. Sure, she had sex numerous times - with short term boyfriends - but never climaxed. She did not think, Ryuji would be the one to give it to her – the one to give her the best sex of her life.

When he was inside her, she felt she died and came back to life. There was no other way to describe her complete bliss.

Morning crept in through the blinds of Ryuji's small apartment. His clothes were scattered across the floor and Makoto's dress lay in a neat pile by the foot of the bed. He opened his eyes to see his own ceiling for the first in a long time. As she observed his space, he noted a full head of russet locks laying on his chest. He took a moment to recall the previous evening; breaking up with Lana and seeing Makoto in the bar after. He groaned a bit when he thought to how the night ended. Though he had a thoroughly good time, he wondered if he made a mistake. Makoto – first and foremost – was his friend. By having sex with her, he changed that. He chose to heal his wounds with her body – and potentially lost someone he admired and respected. He ran his fingers through her hair and she made more small noises, that indicated she was not quite awake. He sighed and thought, perhaps, if he went back to bed the thoughts that consumed him would go away. The ones that told him, 'You're the worst'.

* * *

Room service reminded her just how far she had come. She ate breakfast while her hair was being styled. But it wasn't the overpriced beauty treatment and expensive clothing that made Ann feel the weight of her success. It was the food. It was eating crepes for breakfast every day. It was cake; all desserts; sweet solace. The different meals she experienced warmed her heart and brought her back to the first time she had a plate of curry at Leblanc.

It also made her think of the first time he made curry for her.

She bit into a savory crepe and held the spoon in her mouth. Once again, she thought of Akira. Michael sat on the sofa of the living area for the suite. The days after meeting Akira at Leblanc seemed – off. Ann returned to the hotel in tears. She showered and retreated to bed without talking to him. When he tried to cuddle her, she moved away. Sometimes – he caught her with tears in her eyes. Though he wouldn't say anything to her, he planned a trip to Leblanc to speak to Akira himself. He would find out what exactly happened when he left her there.

Akira washed the dishes from his morning regulars. He turned the television off and checked his phone. That morning he texted Haru telling her he'd be stopping by for clothing. She did not answer. He began to miss breakfasts with her, and Morgana clawing at his ankles. He realized that he and his friends, weren't very much friends lately – or maybe it was sooner than that, and he chose not to recognize it.

He poured himself a cup of freshly brewed coffee. He couldn't get his mind off the other day. Ann apologized. He didn't know he wanted that. He didn't know he waited so long to hear it from her. He didn't know he still hoped her feelings for him were the same.

As their lips parted post their many kisses, tears filled her eyes. "I love you," she sniffled and Akira found that he still felt the same for her. He pulled her into a tight embrace and kissed her temple. She cried against his chest and clenched his shirt. "I should have said something to you back then, and I didn't and I'm sor – " he cut her off with another kiss and they held each other. Ann left shortly thereafter. When she texted later that evening to let him know she got back to her hotel safely he deleted the message.

What a true fool he was. Getting his hopes up about her after so many years. Holding on to her when she left him. She was engaged. She was no longer his to hold onto. He wondered if she was ever his, at any time at all.

He looked up from his cup of coffee when he heard the door of the café open. Michael walked in and sat the counter. Akira focused on him. Their eyes met. Michael ordered coffee in Japanese and Akira served him. He sipped, then placed the cup back onto the saucer. The 'clink' was quite loud in the totally silent café. Michael's eyes never left Akira's. The two men held their gazes and time stood still again. Michael paid for the coffee with a large bill Akira clearly did not have change for. He looked at the bill and Michael got up from the counter and walked towards the door.

He spoke in English, "Stay away from Ann." With that, he left. Akira stood there, unmoving. He stared at the bill.

Benjamin Franklin mocked him.


	5. Knowing

**Knowing**

It was raining again. May began but did with rain. Spring seemed like it would never arrive with torrential rain and the high for the day no more than seventy degrees. Ryuji sat across from Mishima at his favorite ramen place. He missed eating regular fattening foods. Dating Lana had him eating vegan, gluten-free, vegetarian, and whatever else health nuts ate too much of. He never considered Lana a health nut and he did not totally dislike the food, but he realized how much he changed to please her.

Makoto wasn't like that.

They weren't dating per say but spent a lot of time together. Sometimes he would pick her up after work. They'd get dinner or eat at Sae's. They'd talk; a lot. He didn't know he missed talking to someone. At one time that someone was Akira, but their friendship became strained when he learned Ryuji knew Ann was leaving and never told him.

Akira was not one to lose his temper. He wasn't one to become upset, or violent. He was calm; always calm. He wasn't calm at that time.

When he told him, they were walking back from a night out with Mishima. It plagued him the whole evening. There was a lot on his mind. He received an email from Ann earlier that day. She told him about Michael and that she was visiting with big news. He knew the secret he kept for so long couldn't be a secret any longer.

He figured he'd ease him into the news with a few drinks. He thought Akira would be disappointed but believed they would settle it over a few beers. He was wrong.

He didn't expect Akira's grab of his collar. He expected his upset, but not his rage. To Ryuji, Akira's eyes looked similar to that time in their youth, when he became the Persona user they called 'Joker'.

"You knew?!" He shouted. Mishima held onto Akira to the best of his ability but struggled. There wasn't much Ryuji wanted to remember from that moment. However, his bloody lip did stay with him for a while. Akira apologized later and they spoke occasionally, but they were never the same.

Post dinner with Mishima, he went to Makoto's apartment. When she greeted him with a kiss, while he took his shoes off at the door he really felt - if he allowed himself - he could stop punishing himself with Ann and fall for a woman like Makoto instead.

She was the opposite of him; perfect.

She was studying. She had her books in her lap, and her feet in his. She chewed on the bottom of her pen. The television was on. Though he stared at it, Ryuji wasn't really watching. He occasionally looked at Makoto; when she placed her hair behind her ear or when she would look up at the television screen, then back to her book. He stared at her so long, he wondered if he was dreaming. She glanced over at him and found his gaze a bit worrying. Makoto touched his cheek and broke him out of his trance. He blinked a few times and his expression softened, "Hey, are you okay?" She asked. Ryuji blinked a few times and felt tears well in his eyes, "Ryuji?"

He pulled her close and held her to his chest; the book fell to the ground. He was embarrassed; afraid she would see him for what he was. A liar; coward; desperate for love. He wanted what they shared at that moment, but he wanted it for the rest of his life – and he was terrified. He feared she would realize she was too good for him. He feared he'd be unable to love her; like Lana. He feared she'd judge him for wanting that moment with Ann.

He felt like trash; using other women to fill in for Ann. He imagined a settled life for himself but with Ann; Ann who he could never have because he wasn't bold enough to admit his feelings. Ann who he could never have because she never loved him back. Why couldn't have loved someone else?

Makoto hugged him. She held him tightly and felt the pellets of tears fall onto her. She rubbed his back. Ryuji cried for a bit. He didn't say anything and she didn't pry. When he seemed all right enough they kissed. On that occasion, it was less about their attraction and more about being there for one another. They became intimate on the sofa. Afterwards, they laid together; her head on his chest.

"Makoto, why couldn't I fall in love with you, instead?" Makoto blushed and arose from her spot on his chest. She looked away, hiding her bashfulness. Ryuji sat up and poked her cheek with his index finger. "I mean, you're perfect."

"Ryuji, stop. I'm not!" She shook her head and buried her head in her hands. Ryuji pulled her close to him and held her. Though they were alone and safe, he shielded her, "I'm a coward! I'm running away from everything. If I do well on the LSAT, I plan to go to law school in the U.S. I'm running away from Sae when she needs me most because I can't stand It! I can't stand the idea of not being with him."

"Don't be with him."

"What do you mean?"

"For one, don't leave your sister when she's about to be a new mom. You'd regret it. You don't want that. And don't want to be with him. Be with me", Makoto's eyes widened and she pulled away from Ryuji's embrace. She stared at him with great confusion. He extended his hand to her chest and placed it over her heart. With his other hand, he took hers and placed it over his. "Be with me, Makoto," She felt his heartbeat. Though he held a serious gaze, his heart raced. She wondered if he was nervous; if he feared rejection. She also wondered if he felt the same nervousness in her heart.

"Why me? I'm not as great as you think I am."

"Surprise me." He smiled. He moved his hand from her chest. She did the same.

"Why? Why date a girl you know is in love with someone else?"

Ryuji placed his hand on Makoto's head. He pressed his forehead to hers. She blushed. In a low voice; with less volume than a whisper, he told her, "because we're the same," and he laid her down to make love to her once more.

* * *

Saturday was unclouded; there was no rain. For the first time since the season started, it felt like spring. Sunlight poured into Haru's apartment. She slept on the sofa; Morgana lay beside her. It was the first weekend she was home in weeks. She awoke to the "pi" of her phone. She did not hear it at first but eventually turned over to check it. It was a group chat. She couldn't remember the last time she was part of one with all of them; the members of the Phantom Thieves.

She sent the first message. It read 'You're all invited to my makeup launch party. There I'll be revealing my own original makeup line for women of color and officially announce my engagement.'

Yusuke responded, 'Congratulations again, Ann. I am both proud and excited for you. What kind of food will be there?' Haru smiled. Yusuke, though no longer a starving artist, could never really let go of his concern for his stomach. For a moment, Haru felt seventeen again.

It was like Futaba couldn't wait her turn, 'I feed you well enough!'

Ryuji chimed in, offering the bluntness he was famous for, 'Are you guys dating?'

'No! His apartment is close to the university, so I just make dinner there sometimes.' Was Futaba embarrassed? Were they really dating?

And then there was him, 'Do you two often have dinner together, without us?' It was like Akira never changed. Even if it was short lived, Haru felt like it was the good old days. The teasing and the warm jokes.

'Of course, not intentionally! I merely seek her company because she makes me laugh and sometimes she cooks!' Haru giggled. She was sure Yusuke would regret those words later.

Even Makoto offered some words, 'Let's not assume anything. Besides, I'm sure they'll tell us when they are dating.'

Haru burst out in laughter. Morgana woke to her glee and was warmed by her joyful expression. He rubbed himself against her abdomen.

"You sound happy."

"It's just funny. Everyone is so funny," she couldn't suppress her laughter.

"I'm glad you're feeling better. You had me worried."

"You want to go get some coffee? Akira asked for some fresh clothes…" she couldn't help but trail off. Her joy was too short lived.

"Haru?"

"Morgana, do you think…do you think he loves me?" Morgana blinked a few times. He touched her, delicately, with the gentleness of his paw. He said nothing. "I guess that means no. It's weird..." Haru picked Morgana up and placed him in her lap. She flipped him over and rubbed his tummy. He purred deeply and felt slight shame for enjoying it that much – even after all those years in that feline body, "I think I always knew, but I'm not upset."

"No?" Morgana barely made out over his purring.

"No. I suppose – I had to admit it to myself, eventually. I think because I know the answer, there's no reason to feel anxious about it."

"I'm proud of you, Haru. You really have grown up." He licked her cheek and Haru smiled. It wasn't too hard to feign happiness, and she'd so for Mona's sake.

* * *

Yusuke put his phone on the kitchen counter of his studio apartment. It was well furnished and had floor to ceiling windows allowing sunlight to fill the space. He never had to worry about a satisfying meal since he had a personal chef, or so he liked to pretend. She looked 'visually pleasing' in an apron. He picked up his bowl of miso and sipped, "It's very good."

Futaba, with her glasses sitting on her nose, grinned, "Of course it is."

"Thank you for the meal, Futaba. But, may I ask – without you getting offended – when are you going home?"

"When the semester ends."

"That is soon, right?"

"You want to keep eating or no?"

Yusuke raised his bowl for seconds, "you're welcome to stay as long as you like."

* * *

Leblanc closed early. The warm spring night had a cool breeze and Akira had dinner with Sojiro. Futaba did not come home that Night. As he walked back to Leblanc, he wondered if she and Yusuke really were dating. If so, would they keep it secret, like he and Ann did once they started seeing each other when he returned from his hometown? He pondered but lost his train of thought when he saw Haru standing outside with a duffle bag. He approached her slowly. His legs felt like they were not his own as he walked towards her. He knew why she had come. Morgana poked his head out of the bag and Akira and Haru and met eyes.

"Hey", he said to her. Morgana hopped out the bag. The time came for a conversation that was long overdue.

The silver moonlight poured into the window of the attic. The place had its own glow; other worldly. The attic was always a space that housed another universe; a dwelling where dreams lived and died.

They sat on his bed. Akira said nothing. He waited on Haru. He knew very well why she had come and what she would say. The time had come.

"Do you love me?" She asked.

"I have always cared about you –"

"That's not what I'm asking. I wanted to know – to confirm – if you ever did."

"This isn't a work email –"

"You don't get to throw my job in my face. Answer the question." She demanded.

Akira looked at her. Her serious profile was always so attractive to him. Her hair rested on her shoulders and her long lashes favored spider legs, as they touched her cheek when her lids were low. It was this appearance over a pot of fresh Leblanc curry that brought his lips to hers. At that time, their kiss; burning, like the flames beneath the pot. He touched her cheek and Haru felt her heart stop, "No." He answered, honestly.

"Could you have – at any time?" She knew tears would come. She could fight them, but she needed the truth.

"Of course. There were plenty times I felt I did; seeing you water plants or play with Morgana..."

"Then why, why didn't it – why can't it work?"

"It can't because I'm not there. I care about you Haru. I will always care about you, but…"

"Ann. It's Ann, right?" Akira did not respond. Haru moved away from his touch and arose from his bed. She walked around the large space and stood in the moonlight. He looked at her with mixed feelings. He let Haru down, and he knew it. Knowing, bothered him. The guilt bothered him. Her pain bothered him. The fact he was the source of her pain ate him up on the inside.

"No. It's not. It's me," he wasn't defending Ann, as she was not to blame. He was being honest. It was him. It was him the moment he decided to take part in a relationship when he was not emotionally available. It was him when he imagined making love her Ann that night when he was with Haru. It was him when he tried to use sex to distract from his sins against her. It was always him, "It's me and I'm sorry. I'm sorry Haru."

"Why do you keep apologizing?!" Haru sat on the sofa and buried her head in her hands. She wanted to cry but the tears would not come. They would come once she was alone. Once things would start to fall apart when he could not be there to pick them up. There was a long silence.

"Haru?"

"I'll have someone send the rest of your things over by the end of the week." She arose from the sofa and exited the attic quickly. Morgana climbed up the set of steps and looked at Akira.

"Please, watch over her for me," Akira asked his longtime friend.

"Of course." The feline answered and headed down the flight of stairs.

Akira sat there – still – in the quiet and empty place. Leblanc, with as many people that made it home for him, felt like a place he no longer knew.


	6. Author's Note

An author's note..

I do most my writing for this fiction while commuting to work, on my phone. Today I thought I put together a great chapter and the document did not save. It is nowhere to be found. I can't 'rediscover' it anywhere. I'm so upset I'm feeling to discontinue this fiction. For now, my deepest apologies, but this fiction is on hiatus. Hopefully, once I pass my upset I can calm down and present you with a new chapter.

Take care.


	7. Burgundy

Burgundy

She said burgundy was his color.

She laid his suit out on the bed and a black V-neck t-shirt to keep it casual. He didn't have many suits; the few he had, she bought; left at her place; formerly their place.

After he dressed, she styled his naturally frizzy hair for him; a quick blowout and some pomade to keep it in place. She combed a bit to the back and left most of it to the side. She pinched his cheeks. With his slightly reddened face, he frowned, "What's that 's for?"

"For breaking up with me", Haru handed him the cologne she liked most. He sprayed very little on to his wrist, dabbed the rest behind his ear. She held up his blazer for him to slip into and pouted, "How are you this handsome after we split?"

"Come with me," Akira asked, he pushed the sleeves over his lean forearms, "as friends."

"No. I sent Ann a huge gift basket. I'm sure she knows I'm happy for her." Haru handed him very fine framed, oversized glasses. His eyes met hers as he placed them on his face, "you know, you're handsome with them off too."

"I like to keep a low profile", he smiled. For the first time in a long time, she seemed like herself and he felt like himself. She hugged him; held tight. She feared it'd be her last time with him; that close; in that way. He placed his hand on her head, "Thank you, Haru." She fought to hold her tears but lost the battle. He let her. He let her lose her composure, the thing she was very good at maintaining.

It would be all right.

* * *

She reapplied her mascara carefully. She did not often wear makeup, as it made her break out occasionally, but she did have a new obsession with mascara. It developed after she noticed how long Ryuji's lashes were. She found she envied them when they laid in her bed together reading a manga. She quit studying. She gave up her pursuit for law school in America and redesigned her five-year plan around her dreams to honor her father's career, Sae, the baby, and Ryuji.

"Let's move in together," he stood behind her, while she applied her lipstick. He kissed her cheek and wrapped his arms around her waist, already dressed sharply for the evening.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I like being with you. I know it's been a short time but, I figure we've known each other for a long time and since I'm always here -"

"Yes."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. You make me laugh. And smile," Ryuji felt his cheeks flush from bashfulness. He pulled away from Makoto and covered his face with his hand. She turned around and faced him, "Ryuji?"

"I – I love you," He said muffled, behind both hands. Makoto felt her own face burn as those were words she never heard before in her twenty-seven years on earth. They stood in the bathroom, dressed well to celebrate, and support their friend; they had an occasion to attend, but it was unclear who would move again first. They were both terribly embarrassed from Ryuji's utterance of love and a great silence filled the small tiled room; the only noise came from the ventilation fan. Makoto placed her mascara inside the medicine cabinet. She faced Ryuji and pulled his hands from his face. He was pink from ear to ear and she smiled. His eyes were that stardust brown she had come to love. His mouth, the source of her new joy. She placed her hands on his cheeks and Ryuji's eyes widened as she kissed him passionately. They both closed their eyes and he was reminded of his love for her.

When the time came, Makato was bold, forward, and incredible. As they separated and she blinked, fluttering her lashes – made longer by some falsies mascara – she said words that Ryuji believed in for the first time, "I love you, Ryuji." Following that exchange, they moved on with each other.

Their love for Akira and Ann was no more.

* * *

Tall and slender women walked back and forth in a large, pop up dressing room. They sat down and got their hair fluffed, lips painted, cheeks blushed and their faces fully made up by Japan's most popular stylists and cosmologists. They made kissy faces to the mirror and each other then slipped in and out of designer dresses. They took pictures for their social media accounts and used the tag #phantommasquerade. When they exited the dressing room and stepped into the main studio they stood among men and women in black masks.

It was to be a marvelous night.

The occasion was invite only. The studio was small but well decorated. Champagne was handed to each guest as they exited the elevator to the private floor. No photos were allowed, except by staff, though it didn't stop young models from continuing the post using #Phantommasquerade. Guests drank, looked at the glammed-up models, and made conversation on the gala, the fashion, and Ann.

He was nervous for her.

He heard her name several times since he stepped out the elevator. From the moment he was handed champagne, to his attempt to find some vacant space, he heard many things. Praise, for her taste, stylistic choices, and the presentation. Admiration, for her attempts to encourage diversity in Japan. Critique, for thinking a makeup line for women of color outside of white or Japanese would sell well; it was not well thought out. Too many of those critiques came from men in suits, which he assumed were investors. He was terribly nervous for her.

Akira finally found refuge on the rooftop terrace, just off the studio. He removed his mask as he made his way out and saw a familiar face smoking a cigarette. He walked over to Mishima and the two men made eye contact and bumped fists.

"Ann is a genius," Yuuki said. He dressed well in a black button down tucked in fitted navy slacks. He wore a nametag that said 'staff' and his mask sat on the side of his head, "all the guests wear masks and only the models show their faces, genius. I can't believe I'm here!"

"Isn't this work for you?" Akira asked. He looked over at the city below. He felt great unease from being there considering his last encounter with Michael – not that it would stop him – but hearing the critiques of Ann's attempts at her dream rubbed him the wrong way. He thought carefully about why she left and realized that she did need to leave for her ambitions to become achievable. He would not have stopped her, but their love for each other would have made her change their mind. He sighed as Mishima continued.

"Well, yeah, but I'm just covering for a coworker." Mishima flicked his cigarette over the balcony, then shoved his hands in his pocket. He rested against the railing of the terrace, enjoying the warm spring evening.

"So, you're sleeping with her…"

"And I'm sleeping with her. Don't tell my girlfriend," Akira rolled his eyes and looked away from his friend, finding he was somewhat disappointed. "I know, I know," Mishima shrugged, "awful. But I really like my coworker. Don't judge."

"I'm not."

"I'm headed to the bar. Want anything?"

"No. I'm good," Mishima opened the door and disappeared into the sea of people. Akira stayed on the terrace, staring off into the city skyline. To find out someone he thought as wholesome as Mishima would cheat. He was a bit stunned but more disappointed. He had someone who cared for him and he chose to fill himself with another person. But how was he any different? Ann was engaged, but it didn't stop him from kissing her. He was still involved with Haru when it happened. What if something else happened?

He shook his head. He was there to support Ann; not to distract her or bring attention to himself. It was her night. He thought of Mishima, and how he seemed to have no trouble having another woman. He reprimanded himself for considering becoming Ann's other man, though if she asked, he was not confident in his ability to say no.

* * *

She sat alone in a private dressing room, staring into the mirror. She carefully applied lipstick and blush. She wore long blonde extensions and tried to pin it up in a naturally 'messy' look. She held hairpins in her mouth as she held up her hair and fought the urge to scream on the inside. Her night was not going well.

Michael called before the event to tell her he was going back to New York. He wasn't interested in competing with her ex for her affections. When she got back to her senses, he'd be there. Her mother called shortly after to let her know she and her father would not be attending the launch. They sided with Michael and felt that if she was willing to ruin her relationship with "the best man God could give her", there wasn't much to say. She was confident they liked him more anyway. Shiho text her; her daughter was sick.

Ann wanted to feel good about the night, but things got worse as it went on. The caters were short on food. Her lead model twisted her ankle after getting her heels caught in her dress. The damage to the gown would cost Ann a great deal of money she was not prepared to spend. The greatest of her problems came from investors who did not believe in her vision. They felt if the intended market was "more Japanese" it would do well. But to sell to black women, to sell to Latinas, Indians and other women who weren't white or Japanese – it was bound to fail.

Why couldn't they just believe?

Her goal was to diversify Japanese standards of beauty. Though the world made attempts to become more progressive, she felt Japan did not. It was so rigid in its rituals it did not take time to see to the exceptionality of people with differences; women who looked like her; women who looked nothing like her.

It happened on a sizzling summer evening on Central Street. Ann and Akira would secretly rendezvous and spend the evenings together. While she waited for him, she saw a young black woman across the street. The woman wondered around frantically and out of an unexplained concern, Ann decided to approach her.

After they spoke, Ann discovered the woman lost her child in the crowd and no one would help find her, though she was fluent in Japanese. Ann helped the woman and soon enough they found the little girl. She was a small thing with big eyes yet, unquestionably Japanese; her skin was a darker complexion, which Ann obviously attributed to her mother. When the girl's mother asked why she had run off, the child told her the children at the park called her an ugly 'hafu'; a word Ann was all too familiar with.

Over dinner with Akira, she told him of the little girl. She told him of what she wanted to do and the sort of model she wanted to be.

"Not just a fashion model, but a role model," She said. He smiled and reached across the table. He held her hand and squeezed it in his own.

"You're already a great role model, and I can't wait for the world to see," he said with a smile. Not with the smirk she had come to know and love, but a genuine smile. It was that day, that face and how beautiful his smiling face was, that she knew she would give up her life for him. That she loved him more than anything.

To achieve her goals, she couldn't. She couldn't love him more than she loved herself.

So, she left.

After placing the final hairpin, Ann arose from the boudoir and made her way to the studio. She'd be stopped by no man; not Michael, who decided not to show out of jealousy; not Akira who confused her. If it meant her success, she'd love only herself. She owed it to herself to be courageous, self-confident and wonderful. Love was her crutch, and the old her. She'd leave it behind again if necessary. She schmoozed with the right investors; shook hands and took photos with designers and models. She called to apologize to her parents who were looking forward to her engagement. They were shocked by her honesty. They made plans to discuss over brunch the following day. She grinded the rest of the night until she came across a sight more striking to her than the models.

Ryuji sat by the bar with Makoto to his side. They both wore their masks and made it their goal to stay hidden from their friends that night. They used the occasion as their first 'date' and flirted throughout the evening. Makoto occasionally touched the button of Ryuji's good shirt and when she'd step away from him, he'd steal a 'feel' of her buttocks. She slapped his hand a few good times but always giggled. It was good. It felt natural for them. They didn't care who saw. They didn't know Ann watched. Ann wasn't sure of what she saw, but she was sure it was them. She felt a level of betrayal.

How could Ryuji not tell her?

Yusuke, who stood at the other end of the bar, saw them – and said nothing. He was pleased. He was happy two people he cared for found something good in each other. He sipped his virgin cocktail and looked around the room. He was certainly inspired by the night, the models. He did not know his greatest inspiration would come from his closest friend.

"Inari!" Yusuke turned to face Futaba and was shocked to see her dressed in make-up, and designer clothing. She held her mask in her hand and smiled. She did not wear glasses.

"You look – amazing."

"Thank you. You clean up nice too."

"Can I get you a drink, my lady?"

"Yes, please. I want to drink enough so these shoes stop hurting!" She grabbed onto his arm and he ordered her a champagne from the bar.

* * *

The night ended and the guests left; some abandoned their plastic masks on the floor. The models headed off with Mishima, who was surprisingly more charming than even he thought he could be.

Futaba slept in Yusuke's lap while they rested on the lounge sofa, waiting for a cab. She drank far more than either of them expected. Yusuke was happy to see her relaxed. She was no longer comfortable at Leblanc, or even at home with Sojiro. He wondered if it was convenient to get to the campus from his place, or something else. Did she have feelings for him?

"Futaba, wake up!" he poked her cheek and she groaned. "Futaba!" He shook her gently, and her violet like eyes fluttered open, "Are you in love with me?" It was hard enough sleeping next to her in his bed – it would be harder if she did have romantic feelings for him.

"What? No, you idiot. I love you, but I'm not in love with you. You're like my best friend. Now if you wake me before the cab arrives, I'll smack you," She returned to her previous position, sleeping close to him, "stupid Inari." She muttered. Yusuke smiled. He was glad she didn't want anything more. He feared how their relationship would work if she did. He pinched her cheek and she did slap his hand. He chuckled. Yes, things were fine as they were. Yusuke looked up to see Makoto and Ryuji exit the studio. They held hands with fingers interlocked. He was sure they did not notice him, as Ryuji put his arm around Makoto's waist and pulled her into a kiss while they waited for the elevator. Once it arrived, they stepped in and vanished. He smiled, as he was sure no one would believe what he saw.

* * *

Akira walked remained on the terrace until the cleaning staff began their work. Somewhere in him, he hoped Ann would have approached him to say hello, but she left not too long after the models did. He walked out; his friends all gone. He didn't spend time with them, and no one really sought out the other. He did notice when Ryuji came in with Makoto but thought nothing of it. He took the long way home and almost fell asleep on the train. He dragged his feet on his way to Leblanc and couldn't believe his eyes when he saw Ann still dressed up in from the night – in her long red gown – at the door of the café. She couldn't have looked more beautiful.

Akira, without saying a word, walked to the front door. He opened it and left it ajar for her to follow. He made his way up the flight of stairs to the attic. He pulled off his blazer and threw it on the sofa. He turned around and saw her standing there – like magic – before the stairs; her cheeks and lips rose colored, but also her eyes; crying. She must have been.

"I – I'm a failure."

"No."

"Yes. No one wants to invest – not a single person. They think the risk is too high."

"There will be more investors."

"I gave up everything for this night." She covered her mouth with her hand, then ran it up the side of her face, irritating and reddening her skin further. She pulled on her blonde hair and Akira felt his heart break, "I gave up us! I gave up Michael! For what?" She couldn't stop them anymore; tears. They fell, quickly. They poured down her cheeks and he couldn't take it anymore. He held her in his arms. She cried against his chest and he squeezed her. She cried into him, the silence of the night canceled by her sobs.

Then the silence returned.

His eyes were wide and his lips pressed to hers. Her hands roamed his back and he pushed away the many layers of her exaggerated dress. As the dress reached her feet, she stood in a black full body chemise. Her body was thin, and her skin pale. She was different than in his memory. Smaller, more petite. Had she become smaller to adhere to the fashion's world high demands? Was she stressed and was not eating enough? Was he the cause?

He wrapped his arms around her thin waist and kissed her once more. He'd make up for the lost time.

She found herself crying out in ecstasy as he kissed between her legs, but tears filled her eyes as he entered her. He stared into them – like a watery grave. He kissed her once more, more gently than the times before. He knew why she cried; defeat. She had given up the loves of her life to be a letdown. As good as he felt – as good as he was at making her feel good – there was no way to erase what took place. In becoming intimate with him, she cheated on her fiancé. Her dreams; stepped on.

What else could he have done? As good a person as he hoped to be, he wasn't anything but a man. Comfort in that way – nature. Pleasure to vanquish pain. Logical?

Stupid.

She lay in his arms and he stared out the window of the early spring late night.

Stupid.

He reprimanded himself for judging Mishima; for becoming the other man.

Stupid.

As many years had passed, Akira found he did not grow up at all.


	8. Grown Ups

**Grown Ups**

"Do you think it's fate, that it's like this? That I lost everything, just to wind up back in your arms," she trailed her fingers on his apparent collarbone. The sunlight beamed in the old attic and the room glowed with the surrealism that reminded him of his first visit to a palace. He wondered what it would be like in his palace – if he had one. Leblanc – coffee; Morgana napping on the barstool; Makoto sitting in a booth reading; Ryuji sipping soda. Yusuke and Futaba arguing, and Sojiro chuckling behind the counter as Haru shared fresh vegetables with him. In his own palace, he'd walk the flight of stairs to the attic and there she'd be. Ann – in the same apple of Eden red gown; roses. Roses everywhere. A rose bouquet; her large engagement ring. She'd be there; the source of his desire.

He hoped he was a good person.

"Maybe", he answered.

He was not.

"I love you." She whispered into his skin. Her morning breath tickled his bare flesh like the fresh spring breeze. He hated that he loved her back even though she abandoned him. He hated how her blue eyes glowed and how they made him smile. He ran his fingers through her hair and she looked up at him with those eyes he hated that he loved. They kissed.

The mercury morning poured through the window as she made her way on top of him and rode him to orgasm. They held each other, beads of sweat stuck to their skin. He kissed her, hungrily – greedily and scolded himself for loving her.

He was not. He was not a good person.

They spent the morning together. She pranced around in his old clothes. They made coffee and talked about the old times. She wrapped her arms around him; pressed her cheek to his back as he washed dishes. She felt at home. At peace. Her parents called multiple times, but she did not answer. He left the sign flipped on 'closed' on the door. It was their day.

But he was not a good person. The day wouldn't end well.

They sat in his bed, web browsing, and reading articles on their phones. She got up and headed off to the bathroom. He felt the need to touch it. He saw the blinking light of the notification. He had no right – but still, he was not a good person. He wasn't the night before, that morning – he wouldn't be then, either.

Ann, please call me back. I'm at a hotel near the airport. I won't go home without you.

Then he hit it, delete.

"Akira," Ann called from the bottom of the flight of the stairs.

He sinned.

"Yeah?" He answered.

"There's no more toilet paper…"

Evening came and they sat down for curry. She flicked through her phone and he stared at his empty plate. He was not a good person. He was not an adult. He was not mature, but he had to grow up sometime.

"Michael text you earlier," she looked up and Akira her blue eyes were filled with that something he knew would reappear, hope.

"You went through my phone?"

"I saw the text and I deleted it. I thought you would – I thought you would leave if you saw it."

"What did he say?"

"He's at a hotel near the airport. He won't go home without you."

"Why did you –"

"I still love you."

The silence she detested filled the space. It droned on; felt like it was mocking them. The morning was their daydream, the afternoon their respite; the evening their nightmare. He looked at her. She said the same words that morning. Why couldn't she say it again? He wanted so badly for her to say it.

"Akira –"

"I still love you, I know I didn't say it much when we were together – and even since you came back, but I do and I don't want you to go," He was a bad guy; he sinned, "and you're right. If you told me you were leaving, I would have said no. I wouldn't have taken it well. I would have begged you to stay and kept you from all your dreams. It hurt – but – I'm glad you didn't tell me. I would have been selfish. I would have held you back. I'm holding you back now – from someone good for you. Someone who does love you – maybe more than himself. I think he knows. I think he knows you're here. I think he knows we've been together and I think he still wants to marry you and make you happy. Go to him."

Ann stared in shock. The time that passed by quickly while they shared love and bliss suddenly passed by slowly. The seconds seemed as long minutes. Everything Akira said seemed too far from actuality. His tone – shaken; unlike him. His onyx eyes glossy; was he fighting tears? His face slightly reddened from something worse than embarrassment; mortification. He was not the Akira she remembered. He was not who she loved – even earlier that morning. He was a shell of himself. The remainder of a man she left behind. She wanted to say something but no words came to her. She wanted to tell him something that would heal, repair, comfort all the damage she had done to him – nothing. Nothing could fix the upset she felt; the anger; the disappointment.

"I have to go." She hurried upstairs; she pulled on a pair of his sweats. She ordered a cab through an app, but did not wait inside Leblanc until it's arrival. She disappeared out the door. Upstairs, sitting on the sofa in the attic, her red dress.

He covered his eyes with his hands. He was glad to be alone. No one would know if he cried.

* * *

It was more simple than the suite at the hotel on Central. The room was small; he only kept the nightstand lamp on. His suitcase stood by the door. He looked tired. The bags under his eyes were rather noticeable. She was tired as well.

They sat side by side in the bed. She had a change of clothing before she made her way there. She dressed simply; a white, long summer dress; sandals. He wore black pants and a good white button down; patent leather loafers; he was still dressed for the launch party, though he never made it there.

"I slept with him."

"I know, but it's fine. I abandoned you in your greatest hour. I practically gave you to him."

"It doesn't mean what I did was right."

"We'll get through this. We'll go to couple's therapy –"

"I don't deserve you. You don't deserve this."

"We can make it work."

"We can't. I'm sorry, but we can't. There's a lot going on with me right now. I wouldn't be a good wife; I haven't even been a good fiancée. I'll come back to Brooklyn, but only to collect my things. I can't – we can't do this. You're too kind to me, Michael. You're too good." She pulled off the large engagement ring and handed it to him. He took the ring from her and placed it back into her hands, closing her fingers over it.

"Keep it." He kissed her cheek and as he leaned away Ann felt tears roll down her cheeks. Michael arose. He grabbed his suitcase and exited the room. Ann sat there; tears, her engagement ring in her hands.

She believed she did the right thing, though she regretted it tremendously. She threw herself into the pillows of the bed and sobbed. She desired a crepe.

* * *

Children ran back and forth and played in the long blades of grass. Various kinds of towels and picnic blankets covered some in an area a bit off from where the children frolicked. Something about butterflies and giggles; bikes on the dirt path; onigiri in lunch containers – it all felt like summer. A little girl with brownish hair and eyes reached up to her mother, though she stood very well for a one-year-old. The child extended her arms, opening her fingers to her mother and touching her face. Sae smiled greatly as she picked up Niijima Yohanna. The round faced little girl with coffee colored skin cooed as her mother rubbed her nose against hers.

Sitting in a foldable lounge chair, wearing sunglasses, Makoto watched with a smile on her face. Ryuji walked over to her, creating a makeshift seat on the arm of the chair; he handed his wife a boxed apple juice. He whispered into her ear, "I jacked this from the kid table."

Makoto giggled and gladly took the beverage from her husband. Her diamond gleamed in the sun and she kissed his hand as she took the drink from his possession. "Thank you." She smiled from ear to ear as she poked a hole into the carton with the attached straw. Nothing more grown up than one's husband handing them a children's beverage and pretending like it was contraband; it was silly; fun; delightful. Ryuji pulled out his own apple juice carton from his pocket and the Sakamoto pair toasted to their "adult" lifestyle.

What a glorious birthday party for the little Niijima.

Sae's new boyfriend, Hiroshi, suggested a picnic in Inokashira Park would be low budget and easy. She agreed with her pediatrician beau. The two had each other when they met for Yohanna's first checkup. Somewhere between signing documents and the lollipop he asked the older Niijima to dinner. Without much thought, she accepted. They kissed on their first date – but held off from sex until their third. They tried their best to be grown up about it, but it had been a long time for them both. The divorced pediatrician and the single parent attorney couldn't keep their hands to themselves.

When Sae told Ryuji and Makoto over dinner, they celebrated the end of her dry spell with a bottle of champagne and much laughter; how adult.

Yusuke sat by the lake sketching an image of the children at play. He wore his long hair in a bun and periodically blew away stray of hair that bothered his eyes. It was a lovely summer day and he was in a good mood. That morning Futaba made breakfast for them both as she told him he was seeing a man she really liked and wanted them to meet. He was glad she felt close enough to him to ask for his approval. Plus, it made sense since they were roommates and she wanted him to get to the know the tall partially dressed Latino male that walked through the apartment that one Wednesday morning. Who knew she had a thing for Latinos? Or younger men? Alejandro was a graduate student at the program she worked for…

Yusuke chuckled. Futaba and Alejandro both frolicked with the children. Their image would make a glorious piece, indeed.

Haru and Akira sat with Sae's doctor boyfriend, on a blanket nearby. They talked of their favorite television series and drank the contraband children's apple juice. They shared laughter and thoroughly enjoyed each other's company. Akira, especially, was quite delighted to talk to Hiroshi. He admired the man a great deal and they shared the same taste in books, movies, and even video games. He was excited to learn Hiroshi went to school with his friend Takemi, who still had her own practice near Leblanc. The two made plans to abduct her for curry; Akira promised it would be on the house.

Haru was simply happy to see a cheerful Akira and be by his side. Though they no longer dated, her love for him never faded. She decided she would not date until she was emotionally available, but that wouldn't hamper on their friendship and supporting each other. They had dinner together every so often. He visited the apartment to see Morgana or to house sit if she was away for work. Post break-up she felt their friendship was stronger though she missed him often at night, and thought of him whenever she saw couples. She shared this with Makoto who understood her and told her the right person would come, someday, "when least you least expect it."

As Akira and Hiroshi made their plans to eat curry, Haru got up from her blanket and headed towards the picnic table for more apple juice. When she made her way there she saw a familiar face; one she hadn't seen the year before – or in previous years. Ann walked up to Haru and the two women stood face to face. They said no words; the chatter of the people around them seemed louder – as if to speak for them. Haru rubbed the back of her neck, nervously. Ann removed her sunglasses and sighed.

"It's been a long time," Ann began. Her ashen blonde hair was as long as it was when they were teenagers. She wore it in a high ponytail. She wore little to no makeup, her lips always tinted an apple red color.

"Yeah," Haru looked away. She was unsure what to say, how to feel.

"You look great. Like – how are you keeping fit?"

"Makoto, Futaba and I take spin classes, together."

"Oh. That's great. You girls are really keeping close."

"Yeah. We figure it'd be like the 'girl's night out'. Futaba always says how great it would be if we all could go together."

"I'd love to go with you guys. I've always wanted to take a spin class."

"You should." Haru nodded and looked around feeling her mind was spinning as she struggled to find the right words to say to the woman that inspired the end of her relationship with Akira; a woman she previously called a friend.

"Haru –"

"Don't apologize. It was doomed before you came back."

"Still, I feel bad."

"Don't. You look great, and I love your line. I use it all the time. I wanted to call – I wanted to invest. I really believe in what you're doing and now that our little group has a little girl to look after, it's something Japan really needs; Yohanna needs."

"I saw the pictures. She's so beautiful."

"Yeah! So beautiful – and it'd be great if one day she could buy products for her skin type. Whether brown, white, whatever, you know? I want to invest."

Ann stared at Haru with amazement. She was shocked. It was a delayed reunion and it was more than awkward; but here Haru was – no contempt – offering her a chance. Akira wasn't a topic. And why should he have been? They were two successful women, backing each other. A man did not need to fit into that picture. Ann fought tears as she realized Haru had never stopped being her teammate; and despite Akira, never stopped being her friend.

"Yeah. We should really talk about this in greater detail. I'll be in Shibuya for a while."

"Okay." Haru smiled. She extended her hand to Ann who gave it a firm handshake in return. "How about Monday?"

Akira arose from the picnic blanket once Sae brought Yohanna over to change her diaper. Hiroshi stuck around and the three looked like the perfect family. He walked over to the picnic table and saw Haru and Ann chatting. His eyes widened at the sight of Ann, who he hadn't seen since that day in Leblanc. He felt his palms sweat. What could she and Haru and be discussing? What would he say to her? It had been so long and they didn't speak.

Haru walked away from the picnic table and passed Akira and with a smile. She rubbed his shoulder as she made her way, and he unsure if that was a vote of confidence. He inhaled deeply and walked over to the picnic table filled with food and contraband apple juice. He grabbed a carton off the table, sat down next to Ann and handed it to her. He did not look at her. He did not make eye contact. She did not look at him either, though she accepted the drink.

"No booze." She said.

"Yeah. Kid party. Sae's coworkers are here with their kids too. It's better this way."

"Yohanna is adorable."

"Yeah. Beautiful kid. Seeing her makes me want one, one day. I think; I guess. Ryuji and Makoto are planning for kids."

"Yeah. He told me in an email."

"You still talk?" He asked.

"Sometimes. Do you two still talk?" Ann asked with genuine concern. She feared she was the cause for many of Akira's failed relationships; Haru; Ryuji.

"Yeah. Sometimes." Akira ran his fingers through his hair.

Ann tried to open the juice carton. She found it particularly difficult as the straw that came with it was faulty and not strong enough to poke a hole. Akira extended his hand, offering to assist. She handed him the carton and he too struggled to open it. He then laughed at what he thought was weakness and laughed more to himself for thinking he was weak for not being able to do something so simple. Ann stared at him, confused. He looked back to her and shook the unopened juice box as if it and he were on display.

"I guess I'm old." Akira looked up into the sky. The cerulean atmosphere of the world above; the gentle summer breeze. He felt the nostalgia of the day he drove home with his comrades post their Phantom Thief days. He felt the warmth of the sun. Ann looked at him as he stared off; daydreaming. He was really in a world of his own; he always appeared otherworldly to her.

"Michael and I broke up." Akira finally made eye contact with her. She looked at him, in his onyx eyes; he wore no glasses that day.

"Because of me –"

"Because of me. He still wanted to get married but I told him it wasn't fair to him. Besides, I want to focus on my career and get this makeup line where it needs to be. Haru and I were just talking – she wants to invest. I may have a chance to do this through Okumura Inc."

He smiled, "I always knew you could do it." There it was, that smile that she'd kill for.

"Thank you."

"I can't open it, the juice box, I mean." He said in false defeat.

"It's okay. At least you tried," Ann folded her hands in her lap and lowered her head. She would do it; find the courage and the maturity she needed for that moment. She owed it to him; to herself, "I didn't. I didn't try to talk to you. I never gave you the chance to decide - on your part - what happened in our relationship. That was wrong. There were two people involved and I acted for one and I was wrong. I even did the same thing with Michael - I'm sorry."

Akira looked at her. The strange silence that made her nervous came back. He placed the juice box on the table and rubbed his hands into his jeans; the carton felt a bit sticky. Akira looked up into the sky once more. Ann reached out and held his sticky hand. He looked at her and smiled, "That's all I wanted to hear."

As they sat together among the children; their friends, and the summer breeze; holding hands; unbeknownst to them, the apple juice carton leaked from the bottom.

 _\- Fin_

* * *

Author's Note: Please review and comment. I will respond to everyone. Thank you for reading.


	9. No Romance (Sequel)

No Romance

In a "perfect" world men, women and the non-binary are respectable individuals. They do things, such as wait in line patiently behind fellow patrons at the convenience store. For Professor Sakura Futaba, that was not happening. It was perfectly 00:00 hours outside, pitch black night – January – cooler than she liked. The elements of the instance inspired her to cut in line, as to buy condoms in nothing but her lab coat and faux fur winter boots.

Her latest squeeze was on his way over for a romp after some late night research and she didn't have any condoms on hand. Her roommate, the stupid fox she loved like a life partner - not a romantic one - Yusuke, didn't have any either. So there she was; rude and motivated enough to cut fellow patrons in line to buy condoms for a quick romp, only to be at odds with a store clerk that raised his hand to her face and muttered, "No, bitch. Back of the line."

A/N: Check out "No Romance" the sequel to "Ungrown Up".

I'm a filmmaker now, but a writer nonetheless.

\- Blankedty


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